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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205165">Before We Get Lost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreadAndDough/pseuds/BreadAndDough'>BreadAndDough</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tales From The SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Diary/Journal, Episode: e004 The Lost City of Mizu, Gen, Pre-Canon, Web Series: Tales from the SMP</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:33:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205165</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreadAndDough/pseuds/BreadAndDough</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mother told us the story of “Tubbo the Great Leader” today. She said that he was noble, a devine example of a ruler and an exceptional warrior. It does make me wonder, what could Manburg have gone through to need such a person leading them? If he’s as strong as they say, surely everyone would be too scared to attack. </p><p>---<br/>OR: Times before the extinction of The City of Mizu, told through the form of a journal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Before We Get Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is written in a journal entry format because of how much I loved The City of Mizu's books, and how much they prided their ability to record history. So I wanted to keep that same feeling of reading through someone else's eyes, unable to get another's point of view.</p><p>Anyways, enjoy! (:</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Ryn </b>
</p><p> </p><h2>Journal Entry 114 -</h2><p>
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</p><p>Mother told us the story of “Tubbo the Great Leader” today. She told us that he was noble, a devine example of a ruler and an exceptional warrior. It does make me wonder, what could Manburg have gone through to need such a person leading them? If he’s as strong as they say, surely everyone would be too scared to attack. </p><p> </p><p>I asked Mother about this, but she didn’t have a response- she simply called me too observant for my own good. I’m not sure what that meant. </p><p> </p><p>Afterwards, I was finally allowed to enter Tubbo’s room! I would’ve brought my brother along, but Mother says he’s too young to be trusted around such artifacts. He kept insisting that he could handle it, which really only made Mother extend his wait until he turns 12. I think that’s rather unfair. It’ll be so many years until then, I might even be a professional historian by that day. </p><p> </p><p>Wouldn’t that be something? I can’t wait until I’m old enough.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo’s room was beautiful. </p><p> </p><p>There were so many different flowers lining the floors and walls -enough that I could practically smell them through the iron doors. Which, I do find it a bit odd that all of the rooms are locked. Mother said it was for security reasons but, well, what would we need to protect them from? Nobody would be vile enough to vandalize them, they’re sacred. Even my family’s bedroom is always open, so we can get in and out as quickly as we can in emergencies. Maybe I’m thinking too deeply, I’ve just never seen such an important place with a lock guarding it. </p><p> </p><p>Not to mention how far the key was kept away. The woman who accompanied me through the halls (Mother says she was simply a guard. I think she’s much more than that.) had told me to wait while she got it, and I must’ve sat there for 5 whole minutes. </p><p> </p><p>Either way, the room really was magnificent, I wasn’t lying about that bit. Windows lined the walls, albeit a lot smaller than the ones in the main halls, and the mix of yellow and black flooring seems to light up the entire room. Vyra says that they’re supposed to simulate a bee pattern on the ground, one of the Leader’s favorite creatures.</p><p> </p><p>All around the room is books about his accomplishments, from leading Manburg through greatness, to dodging outside attacks with the precision of an artist’s hand. There are a few about his unbreakable friendship with “Tommy the Plate Collector”. They say nothing could ever come between them, through thick and thin, they were always side by side.</p><p> </p><p>It’s simply inspiring.</p><p> </p><p>When I’m older, I hope to be just as great a leader to the people of Mizu. </p><p> </p><h2>Journal Entry 233 - </h2><p> </p><p>My brother and I found something strange today. We were simply looking through the old logs, when we found some kind of secret entrance. It was buried underneath a heap of chests and barrels in the meeting room, just sitting there. It must’ve been wide open like that for years, I have to wonder how nobody’s found it yet.</p><p> </p><p>It feels weird knowing there’s been an entire area just under our feet. I was kind of scared when we first found it, so much so that I couldn’t go in. My brother seemed rather disappointed though, as he refused to go in without me. No matter, I wouldn’t have let him go alone anyways -who knows what kind of creatures could lie down there. </p><p> </p><p>Or even worse, there could be someone of high power in there, as well. Maybe it’s like a secret lair for them. I’d hate to walk in on the City Advisor’s hidden home, at least not while they’re there.</p><p> </p><p>I can’t stop thinking about it.. </p><p> </p><p>My brother’s been acting strangely ever since, so I presume he’s curious as well. He’s still unallowed in the idol’s rooms, so it makes sense that he’d want to see a new place. Anything new beats the same old halls of Mizu.</p><p> </p><h2>Journal Entry 241 - </h2><p>
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</p><p>We never should have gone in. </p><p> </p><p>What the hell was I even thinking when I moved those boxes? I should’ve went in before him, I should’ve made him wait, why didn’t I??</p><p> </p><p>There was… <em> so much. </em> All of those books, there were so many stories of death and violence and pain and just- it all. How could someone do things like that.. Could could I let my brother down there…?</p><p> </p><p>It was an idol I’ve never heard of before: Dream. A complete juxtaposition to what those books said about it. I’ve never read such detailed accounts of history before, especially things that are so- <em> vile. </em> </p><p> </p><p>That stuff couldn’t have been true, right? If we were to believe it, it’d disprove EVERYTHING the other idols stand for… Yeah. Yeah, that’s why it was closed off, because the history books are wrong, because those things didn’t happen. Yeah.</p><p>
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</p><p>Why did we go in there?</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 289 - </h2><p> </p><p>I think my brother’s been having nightmares. </p><p> </p><p>There’s nothing wrong with that, I’ve actually been waking up because of my own. The problem is that sometimes when I do, he isn’t in his bed. I don’t know where he’s going. I tried to get up and look for him once, but I got too scared to move in the halls by myself. I have no idea how he does it so effortlessly, like we didn’t wee what we saw.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he’s sleepwalking. I’m just overreacting again, pushing narratives where they don’t need to be. That’s what Mother always says, and she’s usually right.</p><p> </p><p>Mother doesn’t know what he and I saw, though. </p><p> </p><p>I was considering telling her at first. I thought about bringing her to the room, letting her read the monstrosities that we had to. Maybe then, she wouldn’t give me those glares when I accidentally wake her up at night. Instead, we could be scared together.</p><p> </p><p>But the closer and closer I got to saying it, the more I realized that I’d have to go back to that room, and I really don’t think I’d be capable of that. The consequences of going in there might outweigh the significance of Mother’s comfort.</p><p> </p><p>Most of my nightmares consist of the garden in that room. I’m sitting at it with the faceless form of Dream, and we’re talking like friends. But then he’ll turn with this creepy smile, holding a knife and attacking me.</p><p> </p><p>I wake up after that. Usually screaming.</p><p>
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</p><p>In other news, the flowers in Tubbo’s room are slowly wilting. The red and yellow ones have been the only plants to survive so far, though I’m not sure why. I wonder if he’d know, afterall, Tubbo <em> is </em> the reason these flowers are here for him in the first place. He’d probably be able to revive them with ease.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe not. Who knows anymore?</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 427 - </h2><p>
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</p><p>She keeps treating me like I’m some kid! I’m so sick of it. Just because she’s too scared to go to the surface, doesn’t mean those fears need to be pushed onto <em> me! </em> </p><p> </p><p>It’s the most logical solution, so why won’t she just let me go?? The soil is poisoned, the crops are dying, and we don’t have enough dirt to replace it. If they’d just let me leave, I could go get enough soil (and seeds!) to replace everything. People wouldn’t be dying if she would just quit her whining!</p><p> </p><p>I’m tired of Mother and all her obnoxious rules. She has absolutely no idea what she’s doing, and she clearly doesn’t have the mental capacity to be running a city.</p><p> </p><p>The people of the west wing are dying with every day that goes by, and if we don’t do something soon, they’ll be gone within weeks. They’re sick, barely strong enough to sit up. I’ve seen it myself while looking through the halls, people lying on the ground just to gain some energy back from walking.</p><p> </p><p>And the east-wingers are just IGNORING IT! As if these people aren’t even here. The other day, I saw Mother step <em> right over </em> someone dying on the floor like they were nothing. </p><p> </p><p>When I take over her position, her say in the decisions will be the first thing to go.</p><p> </p><p>Surely she knows the food shortage will spread to us as well if we don’t fix it. What is her plan here? Even her stupid narcissism doesn’t justify this. We can’t keep fishing forever, especially with how little catch we’re getting these days. </p><p> </p><p>If she doesn’t let me up to get what we need, I don’t know how we’re going to come back from this.</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 498 -</h2><p> </p><p>My brother was gone when I woke up again. </p><p> </p><p>I’m sure Mother has noticed at this point, but I don’t think she cares enough to comment. She’s stopped caring for a lot of things, I’ve noticed.</p><p> </p><p>I get the feeling I know exactly where he’s going- as much as it pains me to think about. To tell the truth, I think I’ve known for a long time now. I’ve never been able to put it down on paper though, which makes me feel a bit strange now that I’m doing it. Something about the stark ink forming words against my family just feels.. Wrong. Like I’m betraying them somehow. </p><p> </p><p>Sometimes I’m scared of someone reading through my notebooks and casting them out. Seeing the records of nasty words and late night sneaking, only to decide that we’re too much trouble to keep.</p><p> </p><p>But then I’m hit with the question, am I afraid of them being cast out, or am I afraid of my words being put out publicly? Do I fear the thought of being heard? I’ve been reading and telling the stories of others for so long, that maybe writing of my own would feel too vulnerable. </p><p>
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</p><p>I talked to my brother again for the first time in ages. He said something that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.</p><p> </p><p>“Death is the only way out of this hell.”</p><p> </p><p>He said it with the confidence of someone writing their own story, as if it doesn’t matter what he says now, because his narrative will still be written by him. It’s a terrifying realization to hear. He’s started scaring me lately.</p><p> </p><p>It’s been ages since we were very close; I don’t think he and I have had a real conversation in the past few days, nevermind something as deep as this runs. He’s always gone, probably in that god forsaken and I’m always busy with the others, as well as my studies. At this point, I don’t think I’d mind it if he went away. If the authorities caught drift of what he’s done, heard, and agreed with. If he were to be exiled. </p><p> </p><p>Is that wrong of me?</p><p> </p><p>I keep trying to tell myself that I <em> should </em> care, that he’s family, and that should be important. That to have no remorse for a person, indicates something even worse than the person themself. But the darker that light in his eyes get, the thinner the line between him and I gets. Everyday, he becomes more like a stranger. I’m still not sure what to make of it.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes I think about locking him in that damn room. </p><p> </p><p>That’s a confession I never thought I’d write, but it’s true. If he enjoys his time down there so much, maybe he should be locked up with the other… Huh.. I’ve never been at a lack for words before. Strange.</p><p> </p><p>Nobody would find him. The room is hidden, only becoming more so since he’s installed that stupid false floor. It might be years until they find his body, and by then, he’ll have starved to death. </p><p> </p><p>This is wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe the studies are getting to me. I’ve been reading that old language for days straight, repeating the words over and over again in my head. I tried to write a story of my own in the language. Everytime I did though, it ended up a little too sad, a little too violent, a little too <em> something. </em> My mind is an empty hole of diminishing hopes, and that seems to be all I can manage in my words.</p><p> </p><p>Mother keeps asking me to slow down. She wants me to stop pouring my stress into reading and rereading - to stop drowning out my thoughts with work. There were a few exchanged words about burnout, and how she went through the same thing. I don’t remember the last time I heard her being so open with me.</p><p> </p><p>But it’s strange. The more I think about that term, <em> burnout, </em> the less I understand what she means.</p><p> </p><p>I’ve been looking into all the old dictionaries, and it always seems to have the same translation; one talking about losing all energy to emotional drain. How can that be, though? My emotions are still here, working and intact. The feelings I’ve been having over the last few months are surefire proof of it. In fact, I often have so many emotions that I need a break.</p><p> </p><p>When I think of “A drain in emotions”, as much as it pains me, an image of Dream pops into my head. It’s like he’s stuck there, living rent free. </p><p> </p><p>It’s the only explanation I can think of for doing the things he did. How could someone that cares do all those things? How could a <em> human? </em> They’re supposed to be happy, saving others, and fighting for what they think to be right. That’s what all the others did.</p><p> </p><p>Or, at least… That’s what the books taught us…</p><p> </p><p>The books that might not even be true anymore..</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes I can’t help but look into the Tubbo and Tommy room, and feel vandalized. Like everything my younger self got taught was just a ruse. I had expected for parts to be exaggerated -everything is like that when you’re a child- but to think those sugar-coated stores had been ALL sugar is just… </p><p> </p><p>This entry’s getting a bit too long, isn’t it? I just needed to rant. Until next time.</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 518 -</h2><p> </p><p>I haven’t been very interested in becoming a historian anymore. </p><p> </p><p>To be honest, I haven’t felt like becoming anything anymore.</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 533 - </h2><p>
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</p><p>I did it.</p><p> </p><p>The key to that stupid room is gone, hidden somewhere he’ll never find it. He hates life- I’ve learned as much, and that’s why it’s in such a good place. I don’t think I’ll write it in here. He may try to take this book.</p><p> </p><p>I hid the second key too, just in case. He’s never been good near heat, so this spot should be much easier to keep him away. I don’t think anybody could get past these jumps.</p><p> </p><p>Hopefully he’ll die trying.</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 722 - </h2><p>
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</p><p>We’ve been receiving an influx of steak lately. </p><p> </p><p>I’m not stupid, I know where it’s coming from.</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 873 - </h2><p> </p><p>RanBob has requested for me to stop calling him my brother.</p><p> </p><p>That’s okay.</p><p> </p><p>He hasn’t felt like a brother to me in a long time.</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 940 -</h2><p> </p><p>It’s the 2nd anniversary of Mother’s death today.</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, I don’t even remember the first one.</p><p> </p><p>I miss her. I think. </p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 1103 - </h2><p> </p><p>I stopped calling him anything. Maybe I’ll be able to forget his own name. It’s happened before. Perhaps it’ll be permanent this time.</p><p> </p><h2>Journal Entry 1385 - </h2><p> </p><p>My memory is getting worse and worse. I keep having these short moments of clarity, but I’m not sure what to do with them anymore. I’ll be staring at the dead plants from the halls, and my mind will suddenly supply me with a memory of our childhood. </p><p> </p><p>Like that time Mother had to stop me from falling into the water in the mystery person’s room, or that security guard that would walk me around the city and show me the chests where she’d hide her own notes. It’s weird though. Whenever I go to look for the books she left behind, the chests aren’t there anymore. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe I just forgot where they were. My mind is playing tricks on me.</p><p> </p><p>The thing is that when I don’t remember, <em> he’s </em> just some person. Another random sould that got trapped alone in here, wandering the city and hoping to find an escape. And that’s easy. Because most times, he doesn’t remember me either.</p><p> </p><p>But when I <em> do, </em> it’s...</p><p> </p><p>All I can think about is watching him. Keeping track of every move, every step, every breath. Trying to find what makes him tick, and where he keeps getting those piles of grey powder. What is he doing with them? Where do they come from? Other than the maintenance slimes, animals don’t spawn here anymore- not since the issues with the East Wing.</p><p> </p><p>I want answers. </p><p> </p><p>Why can’t I find them?</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 1386 -</h2><p> </p><p>He saw my notes. He didn’t like them. He’s locking the rooms.</p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 1387 -</h2><p> </p><p>I could kill him. </p><p> </p><p>It wouldn’t be hard.</p><p> </p><p>I could kill him. </p><p>
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</p><h2>Journal Entry 1679 -</h2><p> </p><p>I’m doing it. I can escape. All I have to do is break the glass- I could do it. </p><p> </p><p>All it takes is a few breaths of air. </p><p> </p><p>I could do it. </p><p> </p><p>He’s always been a better swimmer. </p><p> </p><p>But that’s okay. He’s bad. </p><p> </p><p>Bad people don’t win.</p><p> </p><p>They never win.</p><p> </p><p>Not in the stories.</p><p> </p><p>Not in the history books.</p><p> </p><p>And not now.</p><p> </p><p>I could do it.</p><p> </p><p>If I escape I can show everyone.</p><p> </p><p>They’ll know.</p><p> </p><p>They’re alive.</p><p> </p><p>I left them something. They’ll find it. The tree.</p><p> </p><p>The tree the tree the tree the tree the tree</p><p> </p><p>They’ll see it</p><p> </p><p>We’ll be okay</p><p> </p><p>I can do it</p><p> </p><p>Just don’t lose this book. Don’t lose it. You can’t lose this book. This has everything. All you need. You can’t lose it. Don’t lose the pages. Or the covers. Or the words. Or your mind.</p><p> </p><p>All you need</p><p> </p><p>I can escape.</p><p> </p><p>      - Rynboo</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you read this, thank you! ((: I was really excited to finally finish it and get it posted.</p><p>(also, i have tumblr and twitter now! @NotSecretlyAKat on both)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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